Page 143 of The Girl from the Tea Garden
‘Losing his good looks already,’ Sophie pointed out. ‘Too much good living.’
Adela stared at the grainy picture; Jay’s figure was stouter and his face had filled out. She knew Sophie was trying to make her feel better that Jay was out of her life. But there was no need. Adela could hear his name mentioned now and see his image without the slightest tug of emotion.
‘You look weary, lassie,’ Sophie said with a concerned smile. ‘Why don’t you go home for a visit and let your mother spoil you?’
While the ENSA troupe decided whether to sign on for another stint in India, they were given two weeks’ leave to spend in the hills.
‘Typical.’ Tommy laughed. ‘Just as the cold season starts, they send us to freeze in Darjeeling.’
He and Prue decided to go to Jubbulpore instead and stay with Prue’s parents, Prue ever hopeful that Stuey might get a few days’ leave to join her. Adela, encouraged by Sophie’s suggestion, sent a message to her mother and headed to Belgooree. She faced the truth that, despite her yearning to go home, deep down she had been putting off going back because of the pain it would stir up over her father’s death and the rift it had caused with her mother. However many fond and caring letters Clarrie had written to her in the intervening years, Adela knew that her mother had blamed her for the tragedy in Gulgat. But Adela couldn’t avoid the issue for ever; better to clear the air now so that they could try and recapture the loving relationship they once had. With her heart torn in shreds over Sam, she needed her mother more than ever.
Adela felt her spirits rise the closer she got to home. From the ferry she took a crowded local bus to Shillong, where Daleep was waiting with her father’s rusting car. Harry, was standing up in the passenger seat, waving. For a heart-stopping moment she saw the likeness to their father.
‘You’re so tall,’ Adela cried as she pulled him down for a hug. The eleven-year-old was suddenly bashful and brushed off the kiss she planted on his cheek. She laughed.
Daleep chatted about the gardens all the way back up to Belgooree. Adela half listened as the familiar landscape rolled by, and she was flooded with memories of doing this drive with her father– and with Sam. She smothered such thoughts as Daleep honked the horn to signal their arrival. Minutes later she was rushing up the veranda steps and into her mother’s arms.
For the first few days Adela did little more than sleep. She got up for meals– Mohammed Din spoiling her with all her favourite dishes– but even when she sat on the veranda to read the letters she had picked up from the ENSA office before leaving, she fell asleep for hours at a time.
Clarrie was busy every day at the factory. Harry was having his fortnightly lessons with the handsome young Manzur. Clarrie was trying to be firm that Harry would go to StMungo’s School in Shillong after Christmas; she had already put off his going twice. Now that the threat of invasion was receding, she felt better about allowing Harry out of her sight.
Adela went to visit Ayah Mimi, who continued to live contentedly in a hut in the garden, and she put flowers on her father’s grave. She wept fresh tears, but felt his presence strongly, and it eased her sore heart. Once her energy began to return, Adela would go riding in the morning while Harry had his lessons and then take her brother fishing.
It was only at the end of the week, when Manzur had left, that she finally had time alone with her mother to talk. After Harry had gone to bed, the women sat on the veranda sofa together with the windows closed against the cool night air of October, and Adela read out the letters she had brought from Calcutta.
There were two from Jane, who was still relishing her job at the air defence battery; Olive continued to dote on Bonnie and looked after her while Joan worked in the café. George had been away for over a year with the Fleet Air Arm, but his infrequent letters sounded cheery.
The other letters were from Tilly and Libby. Tilly’s was full of home news: Jamie was working hard at the hospital, Mungo was loving school sports, Josey was staying with them while having a break from touring, and Libby was just being Libby. Libby’s letter, on the other hand, hardly mentioned her family at all, but was exultant about Paris being liberated by the Allies. She was funny about her Land Girl job and some prank she and her friends had played on Italian POWs who had come to help with the harvest.
‘James misses his family terribly,’ Clarrie said. ‘He seems to miss them more as time goes on, not less, poor man. I’ve written to tell him you’re here, so you can give him first-hand news if he can manage to get away for a day or so. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘Of course not,’ Adela said, ‘I’d love to see him. It was frustrating being close to the Oxford Estate and not getting there when up at Dimapur. And I can tell him how much his family misses him too. Libby especially. I think the only time I’ve seen her cry was when she knew I was likely to be seeing her dad before she would.’
‘Dear Libby,’ said Clarrie with affection. ‘She was always the most demonstrative of the three.’
‘She certainly speaks her mind,’ Adela said with a rueful smile.
Adela talked about her tour. She told her mother about meeting Flowers Dunlop again after all these years, and Jimmy Maitland.
‘He was recovering, thank goodness,’ she said, ‘and has been sent to the army hospital in Comilla now that the hot weather is over.’
‘Will you stay in touch?’ Clarrie asked.
‘Just as a friend,’ said Adela. ‘Jimmy knows I don’t have feelings for him other than affection.’
Her mother let her talk on. When she paused, Clarrie asked, ‘Adela, is there something troubling you? Something you haven’t told me about?’
Adela’s stomach knotted. She hesitated. Suddenly the burden of carrying her secret for so long was too much to bear. If she was ever to regain closeness to her mother, then she could no longer bury the deep hurt inside her. Tears stung her eyes as she looked at her mother’s concerned face.
‘I met Sam Jackman again in Imphal. It was wonderful– he loves me. He never did live with Pema as husband and wife; she’s married properly to his old bearer, Nitin. But I sent Sam away letting him think there was someone else– even though I love him too with all my heart.’
‘Why would you do that?’ Clarrie asked gently.
‘Because there is someone else.’ Adela swallowed hard. ‘A five-and-a-half-year-old boy.’
Clarrie’s expression was puzzled. Then something changed in her dark eyes, a dawning understanding. She reached out and put a hand on her daughter’s knee.
‘Tell me,’ she encouraged.
